


First Call

by forthegreatergood



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1620983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthegreatergood/pseuds/forthegreatergood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the meet-cute, before everything goes to hell, Sam and Steve are still in the honeymoon phase.</p><hr/><p>“I cannot believe you have your alarm set to play ‘Reveille.’ I mean, I <i>can</i>, but I don’t want to,” Sam groaned, slapping at the clock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Call

**Author's Note:**

> All characters property of Marvel.
> 
> Not beta-read. Please post any noticed errors in the comments, and they'll get fixed.

“I cannot believe you have your alarm set to play ‘Reveille.’ I mean, I _can_ , but I don’t want to,” Sam groaned, slapping at the clock. Steve blinked at him, his eyes still sleep-bleared and his face scrunching. 

“I didn’t...I don’t…” he sputtered, his voice matching his expression. He yawned and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “ _You_ did that, and I couldn’t figure out how to change it back.”

“I would never,” Sam protested. He needed to get up. He needed food. He did a quick mental inventory of Steve’s fridge and decided on a Spanish omelet. If Steve’s expression was any indication, they both needed coffee. But then Steve rolled over and draped his arm over his waist, and it was hard not to just snuggle back against him.

“You did,” Steve insisted, tightening his grip a little and nuzzling his shoulder. “You thought it was hilarious. You did a victory lap around the apartment and declared it a win for the twenty-first century.”

“None of this sounds like me.” Sam relaxed against him and closed his eyes. Maybe the omelet could wait.

“To be fair, I think it was more the whiskey than you,” Steve said, sucking gently at his neck.

Sam snorted. The omelet could _definitely_ wait. He rolled over and brushed his lips over Steve’s.

“I knew it didn’t sound like me. I thought we agreed to forget about that night?”

Steve kissed him again, a dopey smile on his face. “Change the alarm back to just the bell, and that’ll destroy the last evidence of your misdeeds.”

“My misdeeds?” Sam scoffed, nipping his lower lip. He grabbed Steve’s ass and pulled him close. “You practically dared me to try and drink you under the table, and now that whole night’s on me?”

“Captain America would never encourage irresponsible liquor consumption,” Steve chuckled, rutting against him.

“Yeah, well, Captain America might not. Steve Rogers? That’s a different story,” he retorted, “and I don’t remember that glorified turkey platter of yours being anywhere in evidence when all that was going down.”

Truth was, he didn’t remember a whole hell of a lot between Steve telling him he couldn’t get drunk and waking up the next morning in Steve’s bed with a splitting headache. He hadn’t even realized where he was until he’d heard Steve in the kitchen, singing along softly to some old-time jazz record turned down so low it sounded like it was coming from next door and not the next room. As attempts to get into somebody’s pants went, he figured that was going to be his record worst for a long time. Chickening out after two drinks, getting his nerve back at...five? six? drinks, and then riding that train until he couldn’t get his own address right was an act he wasn’t in a big hurry to top. 

Then again, here they were. Sam slipped his tongue into Steve’s mouth and his hand under Steve’s waistband. If that night was something they were admitting happened, Sam considered Steve nursing him through his hangover the next day and shyly asking if he’d meant it when he’d hit on him to be the start of their first date. Eggs and orange juice and an “I Love Lucy” marathon had followed. If they weren’t admitting it happened, then their first date would have been the day after that, when they’d ditched the movie to head back to his place, and Steve had made him come so hard that he hadn’t been able to feel his face for a minute or so afterwards. Neither of them were exactly what he’d call a bad start. He stroked his fingertips over the small of Steve’s back, tracing a light circle before following the curve of his spine to his tailbone.

Steve groaned a little just from that, and Sam rolled them over and slotted himself between Steve’s thighs. He still couldn’t quite believe how absolutely responsive Steve was to every bit of contact. It had just about driven him crazy the first time he’d gotten Steve’s clothes off; he’d been flushed, panting, and moaning just from Sam’s fingers around his cock and Sam’s lips on his throat. The look on his face when Sam had finally brought him over the edge was far and away the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He hadn’t ever wanted to take his hands off him after that.

Sam tugged his boxers down and kicked them off, and Steve smirked a little before arching off the bed and sliding his pajama pants down over his hips. Sam shook his head as he felt his cheeks heat up in a blush of his own. He’d have been more embarrassed about the fact that he couldn’t keep his eyes off Steve if Steve weren’t in the habit of looking at him with the same intensity. Steve was stretched out and gorgeous underneath him, and Sam kissed and licked his way down Steve’s chest and belly while his hand was busy with little teasing strokes. By the time he was sucking at the sensitive skin where Steve’s thigh met his hip, Steve was quivering under him, and his cock was hard as a rock and leaking against his palm.

“God, _please_ , Sam.”

Sam shivered at the sound of Steve’s voice. He was pretty sure he could come just from listening to Steve beg and moan, though he hadn’t gotten the chance to test that theory yet. He ran his free hand up the inside of Steve’s thigh, and he obligingly spread his legs to give Sam a better angle. Sam resettled himself, sucked the tip of his cock into his mouth, and watched as Steve’s face twisted into something that almost looked like pain. His mouth fell open in a soundless cry, and Sam twitched his tongue around Steve’s foreskin just enough to pry a rough gasp out of him. 

He still didn’t like thinking about how he’d almost chickened out of telling Steve he was attracted to him. He’d come just a few shots of whiskey away from talking himself out of even trying for it, and now Steve was moaning and sweating and doing his best not to thrust up against his tongue. Sam sucked the rest of his length into his mouth, and the whimper it wrung out of Steve was enough to make him shove the bunched covers aside and take himself in hand. Steve twitched under him, his eyes fluttering at the tip of Sam’s tongue worked back up to his slit.

“If you can wait, I’ll--ah!” The offer Sam knew was coming was cut short by Sam swallowing around him. If he could wait, Steve would drag him up into a long kiss and hold him close and stroke him hard and fast, and he’d wind up coming all over Steve’s belly and, probably, falling back asleep on Steve’s chest. As few complaints as he had about Steve’s approach, he didn’t want to wait. He drew almost all the way off Steve’s cock before plunging back down. 

“Jesus, Sam, you’re gonna kill me if you keep this up!” he hissed.

Sam shrugged a little and pressed his tongue flat against the base of his cock, and Steve moaned.

“I’m almost…” Steve squirmed under him, panting, and Sam pulled off and repositioned himself so that he could get his hand around both of them at once, pumping and stroking and watching Steve come apart.

Steve’s hands wrapped around Sam’s hips and pulled him close, then he screwed his eyes shut and arched obscenely as he spilled into Sam’s hand. Sam bucked against him, the last bit of friction and slickness pulling him along after Steve. He rolled to the side and nestled into the crook of Steve’s arm, and Steve kissed him hard and deep. Sam turned his head slightly and kissed his way down Steve’s neck, a warm haze blanketing him for a few long moments.

“Don’t you fall back asleep on me,” he muttered. 

“Who, me?” Steve shifted against him and tucked a pillow more firmly against his shoulder, grinning.

“Yeah, you. If SHIELD’s got you for the next two days, I want to do something more than lie in bed and snore in each other’s ears today.”

“I dunno. It’s got a lot to recommend it,” Steve teased.

“Never said it didn’t,” Sam said, grinning at the way Steve was already getting hard again. “But I want to take you out and show you a good time for once.”

Steve nibbled his ear and then loosened his grip. “Okay. Just change the alarm back to something normal, and we’ve got a deal.”

Sam huffed a laugh and shook his head. He took one last look at Steve lying stretched out on the bed, long enough to get him through the next few days, and tugged his hand. “Come on. Shower first, then breakfast, _then_ I fix your alarm clock.”


End file.
